


Thief in the Streets, Fake Prince Between the Sheets

by PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: 13 Year Old Rupert, Blood, Crushing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Canon, Shirtless male character, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart/pseuds/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart
Summary: Pre-TTPP. The Lord Chamberlain sneaks Prince Rupert out before another costume party, which leads the young prince to develop a certain taste for common fare. He also meets another young man who needs an extra set of eyes. Rupert offers to help and the young prince finds himself in the middle of a very tangled web.





	1. As The Rooster Lies Thrice

Another day, another costume party. At least he could cover his face and act like he wasn’t bored out of his skull, Rupert reasoned. In spite of his mother’s assertions that this would be “basically a new holiday,” Rupert couldn’t bring himself to care about Hollow’s Eve. And did this new holiday have to be the day before his birthday? He was turning thirteen this year and his face was already greasy and zit-prone enough without the stress of two days worth of parties. 

And, like the last three holidays before it, this one would practically be guaranteed to fail within three years. He’d already heard the castle staff grumbling. He didn’t know a lot of what went on outside the castle, but the few events he’d gone to with the Queen seemed strangely tense. There weren’t city-wide decorations except around the planting and winter holidays. Harvest time was too busy to celebrate much, but since that was around the same time of his birthday, Queen Lavinia always made a big deal about it. 

Now that big deal was two days long instead of just one. 

Kicking a ball against the castle wall in the courtyard, Rupert sighed. He could see the Lord Chamberlain approaching and it seemed his brief respite from party planning was over. 

“Chamberlain, I’ve already been fitted for my costume, picked out my mask and it’s too early to get washed up for the party. Can’t I just..”

Lord Chamberlain raised an eyebrow, then his hand. Rupert looked down and huffed. “Your Highness, would you care to accompany me to the city?” Rupert’s head shot up in surprise. “I’ve an errand to run but after that I would like to show you the marketplace.”

“Why?” Rupert asked, in spite of himself. 

“A prince should know his people. You will rule one day, after all,” Chamberlain said, producing a hood and cape. 

Rupert took the garment and slipped it on in a daze. “Mother said if I ever thought about ruling she’d tie me to my throne until I was sick of it. It’s like she wants me to be a kid forever.”

Chamberlain smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “Nobody is a kid forever. Not to be a downer, Your Highness, but neither does one rule forever. Not even Her Majesty. At any rate, the finer points of ruling are a topic for a later date. This is a more pleasant outing, in celebration of your birthday. I dare say you’ve had enough of parties, yes?”

Rupert nodded emphatically, his hood barely staying on over his curly brown hair. Chamberlain patted his shoulder and turned him toward the drawbridge. 

Rupert didn’t know how Chamberlain bribed the guard to let them out, but he did notice a guard followed them at a respectful distance. Close enough to run in and help, far enough to be out of hearing range. “I gave them our route exactly, I’m afraid. Your protection is important, after all. And though I may still carry my sword, it has been some time since it saw use.”

Rupert nodded. “The hunt that killed my father.”

Chamberlain looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “I wish I’d been able to talk him out of that particular...endeavor.”

They turned down a street and walked into a small shop with a sign overhead of a quill and roll of parchment. Rupert worked up the nerve to ask a question. “What was my dad like?” Rupert asked. 

Chamberlain nearly knocked over the inkwell he was inspecting. The shopkeeper looked over at the noise, but went back to cutting a quill into a pen when he saw them. “Your father could be quite demanding, in all fairness. He had a certain vision of the future that he was willing to risk quite a lot to make come true. His...premature departure was sad in its own way.”

That was more than he’d ever gotten anyone to say and certainly not the glowing praise his mother said half-heartedly. “I’m not sure I understand. Was he a good man?”

Chamberlain picked up three bottles of ink and several quills. Heading to the counter, Chamberlain finally replied. “Your mother loved him very much. He was always effusive in his praise of her. They had their disagreements, of course. But they ruled their own courts as well as any king and queen before them.” He withdrew a few coins from his bag and handed them to the shopkeeper. 

“That’s that errand complete,” Chamberlain said as he picked up the writing implements and carefully stored them in his shoulder bag. Rupert noted in amusement that the old man must have mistakenly grabbed a maid’s bag. It was embossed with flowers and inlaid with colored stones. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone pay for something before,” Rupert noted as they left the shop. 

Chamberlain looked at him with eyebrows raised. “Our currency has actually become simpler since your mother came to rule alone. We have copper, silver and gold Lavinium coins.”

Rupert snorted. “Mom named the coins after herself? That’s so her.”

Chamberlain shrugged. “They were called Fredericks before that. And there were six copper Frederick’s to a silver Frederick. And nine silver Frederick’s to a gold. Your mother rounded one down and one up. Five copper Laviniums to a silver, ten silvers to a gold.”

“What happened to the Frederick coins?”

“Her Majesty ordered them melted down and reforged. There may be certain folk who still have some. But after the w-“ Chamberlain paused. 

Rupert looked at him, but Chamberlain looked anywhere but at him. “Are we lost?” Rupert asked.

Chamberlain didn't even glance his way. “N-Yes. Yes we are. Perhaps our guard can help us. Do you see him?”

Rupert barely stood to Chamberlain’s shoulder, but he looked around anyway. “Yes, there he is by the rug stall.” Rupert waved at the guard, who nodded and approached. 

“Yes, Lord Ch-I mean. Yes, Mr. Alfred?” The guard said. That was a first for Rupert. No one he knew ever called Lord Chamberlain-

Chamberlain smiled and nodded. “Peter, I’m afraid I’ve gotten myself turned around. Do you know the way to the Dog and Dragon Inn?”

Peter the guard gave him a strange look. “Yes sir, you actually were headed the right way. It’s just down that street and to the right, sir.”

“Oh, thank you," Chamberlain said, putting a hand to his forehead and letting out a shallow laugh. "I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten. Must be that I was too lost in thought to remember where I was going.”

Peter nodded. “You’re welcome sir.”

Chamberlain finally looked at Rupert and smiled. Rupert noted the lines in his forehead looked especially wrinkled. “Well, let’s lead the way, shall we?”

The Dog and Dragon Inn was in a part of town close to the castle. It boasted a walled courtyard, stables, and a meat-smoking shed. The first floor of the inn was dedicated to its kitchen and dining area. A large chalk board on the wall listed off plenty off things Rupert never heard of. Everyone inside seemed to be relaxing and talking quietly. A serving-girl led them to a heavy-looking wooden table with stout, well-built stools. 

Chamberlain ordered as Rupert looked around. The serving girl seemed to be around his age and looked healthy and in good spirits. There were a few guards he recognized from the castle at a corner booth. Several well-dressed gentlemen were chatting at a round table in the center of the room. Their eyes were sharp and from the occasional bout of laughter, their wits were likely sharper.

The serving girl interrupted his observations. "Excuse me, young sir, but would you prefer apple pie or blackberry?"

Rupert glanced at Chamberlain and then the girl. "Blackberry?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

She seemed to take that as an answer. "Blackberry it is!" Chamberlain nodded and passed her a few laviniums. 

Rupert waited until she left to ask the Chamberlain. "What are blackberries?"

Lord Chamberlain sighed, but smiled. "Your mother prefers fruit from trees rather than bushes. Something about them being low to the ground and therefore more 'common.' Blackberries are a type of fruit that grow on particularly thorny bushes called brambles."

"Oh, mom hates thorns," Rupert said, shaking his head. "Our gardener had to bring in a special variety of roses from a greenhouse out at some keep in the country. Those don't make thorns."

"Had you ever been stuck in a bramble, you'd quickly hate thorns as well." The Chamberlain said, rolling up one sleeve to show off a web of old scars on his shoulder. 

Rupert grimaced. "I think I'll leave thorns alone."

The serving girl returned with their food and two glasses of surprisingly cold, clear water. "My name is Diana, by the way, feel free to call if you sirs need anything else."

"Thank you, lady Diana," Rupert said with a smile.

"Oh, lady indeed!" She said as she laughed. Shaking a finger at him, she spoke much less formally. "Don't go thinking that flattery will get you a bigger piece of pie now, nor anything else!"

Rupert laughed and shrugged. "Can't blame me though, can you? Although if those blackberries are nearly as sweet as you, I might just have to order another piece."

She laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. "Shameless flatterer! I'm off, and good meal to you!" She walked away, although with considerable more bounce to her step than before.

Rupert turned back to see the Lord Chamberlain hadn't waited for him, though he ate with grace and good manners. Sighing, Rupert tucked into his food as well. He had to have the Lord Chamberlain identify a few things, although the man refused to name anything until Rupert had tried it. He half expected something unpleasant, but it seemed everything was hearty and well-made. 

"You seemed quite at ease with the young 'lady,' Your Highness." Chamberlain said, although in a way that came off more as a question.

Rupert shrugged. "I like to make people happy. No different than any of my mother's friends, or her enemies, for that matter. Or their daughters. They're nice, but not particularly interesting."

"Not interesting?" The Chamberlain asked, eyebrow raised.

"I'm too young for anything like that, Mr. Alfred," Rupert said, raising both eyebrows. "And my mom tries to set me up with enough girls on her own."

Chamberlain waved a hand at their plates. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

"Might as well call me Rupert out here if we're supposed to be inconspicuous, Alfred." Rupert took another bite of his meal. When he looked back up at Chamberlain's gaze, he squirmed a bit in his seat and swallowed. "Sir."

Rolling his eyes, Chamberlain went back to his own food. As they finished, Diana brought out their pie. Rupert noted with amusement that his piece did look at least somewhat larger than the one she gave Lord Chamberlain, although neither Rupert nor Diana exchanged anything but a smile. 

"Okay, so maybe being a little nice works out, in the end," Rupert said as Chamberlain looked at him with interest. 

A door on the side they hadn't entered from opened. From the golden ray of sunshine it let into the slightly darker dining area stepped a young man Rupert judged to be older. His long black hair was up in a ponytail. His muscular arms and tan gave away the amount of work this young man did in the sunshine. Rupert's eyes followed him from the door to the bar, where Diana passed him a glass of water. He wore sturdy brown pants and shoes, but had taken off his shirt and casually thrown it over one shoulder. 

One of the well-dressed men made his way to their table and clapped his hand on Chamberlain's shoulder. "Sir Alfred, an uncommon pleasure as always. Didn't want to interrupt your meal, but as you've got the best blackberry pie in the city, I couldn't help but come and see how you like it."

"Rupert, this is Mr. Draconis Hund, the owner of this inn," Chamberlain said by way of introduction.

Mr. Hund laughed and waved a hand. "Draconis indeed, my ma was a bit of a fantasy lover. I go by Drak, young Rupert. It is indeed my pleasure to meet Lavinia's son." Rupert took Drak's outstretched hand and shook it. 

"You know me?" Rupert asked.

"Even with the hood up, the name isn't quite common. For...reasons." Chamberlain's eyes snapped on Drak, who cut himself off. "Uh, you know how it is. Names fall out of favor and all. And out of respect for the royal family and all."

Before Rupert could form a thought over the awkward conversation, the young man from before came over. He stopped next to Rupert, his broad chest and flat stomach too close for Rupert's comfort. There was a strong smell of leather, horse, and sweat radiating from the young man. Rupert's poor mind reeled with uncertain, half-formed emotions. "Father, I've finished with..."

Drak cut him off. "I can see that, more to the point, I can smell it! You're sweating enough to stink up a castle. Put your shirt on, you young heathen! Then go get cleaned up with real soap this time, Draco, or I swear I'll wash you myself."

Draco quickly donned his shirt. "Sir, I just wanted to ask..."

Drak waved a hand. "I know what you're on about. I need you in your room to watch your sister. You know I snore too much for her to get any peace."

Draco's shoulders slumped. "But I..."

"Go before I tan your hide in front of our guests. Bare bottomed and all," Drak said, finally sending Draco off in a hurry. "Mind you, I wouldn't and haven't laid a hand on either of them since Myrda passed, but still, got to have some bit of order around here."

Rupert tried vainly not to imagine the sight. There was a burning sensation in his lower stomach that wasn't altogether unpleasant. And he was quite certain he couldn't stand if he tried. Was it the blackberries? He wondered, then decided he’d take the odd sensations if it meant he could eat more of the new fruit. 

Luckily, neither Chamberlain nor Drak seemed to notice. Chamberlain took a sip from his glass and looked up at Drak. "Forgive me for prying, but what is it that young Draco is so keen on?"

Drak sighed and pulled up a stool. "The lad's got it into his head that our night-man is cooking the books. Only problem is that it adds up, but we're running low on things faster than usual. I'm too tired and old to run the place all hours of the day and night. Draco wants to stay up and keep an eye on Timothy, but his sister's room is through his room so he can keep her safe. One can never be too careful with their daughter. Especially one as catches the eye."

"Is there no one else to help keep an eye on your night man?" Rupert asked.

Drak sighed. "The man's been with me almost as long as the kids have. I'd hate to mistrust someone so close to family. Besides, there's any number of reasons for a shortage. We'll get it figured out in time. We're still one of the more prosperous inns around. Thanks in no short by the royal guard patronage. And no less important people like Sir Alfred and yourself, highness. Please, though, try the pie?"

They did as he bid, the flavor and texture a new experience that Rupert was quite keen on. "I think I might need another of these. Or three. Three is good."

Chamberlain and Drak laughed. "Going to give himself a stomach-ache at that rate. I'll bring you another as I'm honored by your patronage and on account of it's your birthday tomorrow. Yes! I know that too, your mother wouldn't let anyone in the kingdom forget it, as often as she makes a big fuss around it."

Drak laughed again as he patted Rupert's shoulder and headed to the kitchen. 

Chamberlain looked at Rupert's empty plate with shock. "How did you..."

Rupert shrugged, his cheeks nearly bursting as he made a great effort to experience as much of the taste as possible. At length, he managed to get it down and took a long pull from his glass. Wiping his mouth, Rupert looked down, a bit sad now that he'd finished the treat so quickly. "Think mom will let me have blackberries on my cake?"

Chamberlain looked to the ceiling before eventually returning his gaze to his charge. "I'll handle it personally, Rupert."

Rupert couldn't help but bounce a little. As Diana brought out a second slice, she took the first plate and smiled. "Feel free to bring that healthy appetite back here any time. If my brother's anything to go by, I can tell you're likely always hungry."

Rupert nodded his thanks as he took a more reasonable bite this time, intent on making it last. 

As he finished, he glanced around the dining room. "Uh, where do you think they keep the..."

"The privy?" At Rupert's nod, Chamberlain pointed at the door Draco came from. "Out in the back there are well-aerated ones. Don't dawdle, we have to return soon."

Rupert jumped up and nodded. "Yes, sir. Be back in a minute."

When he exited, he could see Draco and Diana fighting, although they noticed him immediately and looked away. He felt his face burning and he quickly went to handle his necessities. 

On the way back out, Draco stood away from the wall of the inn, his shirt off again as he washed himself from a large basin. Rupert felt himself staring before he caught himself and looked back at the door. 

Draco nodded at him. “Hey, sorry about before. I bet I didn’t smell very good.”

Rupert’s tongue tied itself into a knot in his mouth. “Uh, no. I mean, yes you did. But I barely noticed.” With a wince, Rupert realized he was eye level to Draco’s form pectorals. Which meant he was staring directly at the older boy’s chest. 

“You okay? It’s a bit warm out here, you might want to go back inside and get some more water.” Draco turned back to grab the wash cloth.

“Maybe I could help you,” Rupert said without thinking. 

“Uh, I can bathe myself,” Draco said, turning back around while scrubbing behind his ear. 

“No, definitely not what I meant,” Rupert said, hands up. “I meant keeping an eye on...”

“My sister?” Draco dropped the washcloth in the basin. “Look, making silly comments is one thing, but if you think I’ll let you spend a night with my sister!” Draco stepped forward, right in Rupert’s face. 

In reflex, Rupert left his hands up and braced them against the oncoming chest. When they made contact, Rupert felt his ears burn. “No, on keeping an eye on your night-man!”

This stopped Draco in his tracks. “Who are you? Some palace servant?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rupert lied. “A palace servant. Under Sir Alfred.”

“Got a name, kid?” Draco asked, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Ru—Rooster,” Rupert said, catching himself before saying his real, dead-giveaway name. 

“Like the bird?” Draco asked. 

Rupert nodded numbly, only just realizing his hands were still on Draco’s chest. Stepping back and clearing his throat, he offered a hand. “I was born in the morning, just as the sun rose. Ma says I sounded like a rooster crowing as I first cried out.” It sounded plausible enough, Rupert reasoned. 

“Well, if you reckon you can get out of the castle at night, you might could be of some use after all, Rooster.” Draco took his hand and shook it firmly. Rupert tried not to make a noise as he felt the rough hand take hold of his own. “Meet me here tonight.”


	2. Deny Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert goes to help Draco find out the truth about Timothy's dealings. He finds an unlikely ally along the way and things turn out to be far worse for everyone involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there's actually more violence than I originally intended. Blood mention, stabbing, and abuse warnings here. Sometimes a story takes you places you didn't intend on going.

As they approached the drawbridge, Queen Lavinia stood in the gateway, her hands on her hips. Rupert looked at the lord chamberlain, but the old man simply shrugged and continued. They arrived before the queen and waited for her to address them. By now Rupert was familiar with her moods; she would accept nothing until she specifically asked for it. Her posture and expression spelled certain doom. 

She drew a breath and just as Rupert prepared himself for a verbal tornado, Queen Lavinia sighed. “Did he have a good time in the city, at least? No one was mean or said anything they shouldn’t?”

Lord Chamberlain nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. His Highness did develop a fondness for blackberries, which I assured him could be added to his birthday cake. With your permission, of course.”

Lavinia rolled her eyes. “Common food. Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. But only on his personal cake. The public cake is already done and probably would collapse if we added anything else. Well, the cake or the royal baker, one of the two.”

“You’re not mad?” Rupert asked, silently slapping himself for even bringing up the thought. 

Lavinia held out her arms. “Rupert, dear, even I get tired of parties every once in a while, although I never show it.”

Rupert glances around before giving her a quick hug. As he pulled away, she held him. “Even so, don’t think this will be a habit. Royalty must maintain a certain mystique after all. And there are always cut-purses, thieves and robbers. Never leave without a guard.”

Thinking about how he’d be spending the night, Rupert laughed nervously. “Right, okay mom.”

“Well, the masquerade is over already and your stand in did admirably. Make sure to thank Sir Percy’s squire the next time you see him in training,” Lavinia said as she walked away. 

“Sir Percy’s squire stood in for me at the masquerade?” Rupert said, one eyebrow quirked up. 

Chamberlain nodded as he began to walk inside. Rupert kept pace with him. “Zachary does not dance as well as you do, curiously. One would think with his swordfighting footwork he’d be better. But he was passing in imitating your voice and mannerisms. Although I’m afraid he went slightly beyond your usual...effervescence.”

“You mean he played me like a sissy?” Rupert said, folding his arms. 

Lord Chamberlain shrugged. “I believe that is how you would describe it, yes.”

Rupert scuffed the floor with his shoe and looked away. “Well, just because I’m bad with a sword...”

Lord Chamberlain patted him on the shoulder. “All you have to worry about tonight is getting your rest.”

An idea struck Rupert. He turned back around to call out to the Chamberlain. “Hey, did they use a wig? What was my costume like?”

Chamberlain half-turned, his lips turned in a half-smile. “The entire ensemble is actually in your room. Zachary changed in there.”

Rupert grimaced. “Ugh, thanks for that thought.”

“You’re welcome,” Lord Chamberlain said, not even looking in Rupert’s direction. 

Rupert sensed Chamberlain just made a joke at his expense, but couldn’t figure out a way to prove it. “Well, good night, Chamberlain.”

“Good night, Your Highness,” the older man turned back to flash a smile at him before leaving. 

As Rupert turned to the stairs, Chamberlain called out again. “Oh, your highness, before you go I almost forgot. When you were away Mr Hund gave me this. Said he found it under a table and had no use for it.”

Turning back around, Rupert sighed and crossed back to see what Chamberlain had in his hand. “A copper Frederick? These are still around?”

Chamberlain shook his head. “They’re not supposed to be. They were all to be melted down and turned into Laviniums. Oh, here’s a Lavinium for reference. As you can see, Her Majesty opted for a smaller coin size and weight. But she increased the quality of the materials used.”

Rupert stared at his father’s image. He really hoped he never got that nose. “That’s really cool. Thanks, Chamberlain.”

Chamberlain bowed and turned away again. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Arriving at his door, Rupert could swear he heard rustling. There weren’t many occupied rooms around this tower. At least not regularly occupied rooms. The sound had to be coming from his. But who?

Rupert opened the door and was greeted by the sight of the second shirtless boy of the day. Squire Zachary pulled his shirt on quickly as Rupert entered. Not quickly enough for Rupert to miss the scars on the boy’s back. 

Zachary turned around and bowed. “Your Highness. They told me to change here to avoid suspicion,” 

Rupert set his cloak on the rack by the door and sighed. “How long has the party been over?” 

Zachary winced. “It took some time to...get out of your costume. I’m not that familiar with some of the buckles and buttons you have to put up with.”

“How did you get into the costume?” Rupert asked.

Zachary reddened. “Sir Percy helped. It was novel. Usually it’s me helping him get into his armor.”

Rupert nodded. “That’s actually pretty funny. Thank you for taking my place,” Rupert said, wondering whether he should bring up the fact Zach still had the colorful costume boots on. 

“I only did it on Sir Percy’s request,” Zachary clarified haughtily. 

Rupert decided not to tell him about the boots. “You mean at his command?”

“I would have done it if I was asked,” Zachary said, crossing his arms. 

Rupert crosses his as well. “But you were told.”

Zachary huffed a sigh. Rupert patted himself on the back mentally. Zachary’s sword might sting in the sparring class, but Rupert has the advantage when it came to arguing. “May I be dismissed, Your Highness? I still have my regular duties to attend to before I can sleep.”

Rupert walked past the pouting squire and waved carelessly behind him. “Fine. It wouldn’t kill you to make small talk every once in a while, though. You know...” As Rupert turned around, he saw Zachary was gone. He hadn’t even closed the door properly. Rolling his eyes, Rupert went through his closet and picked out a black outfit. He reasoned it would help him blend into the shadows. 

They’d styled a wig after Rupert’s hair. Rupert found it haphazardly tossed on the seat of his desk-chair. He set up his bed with pillows and some extra sheets before setting the wig to make it look like he was asleep on his side facing away from the door. Satisfied with the effect, Rupert turned around and nearly cried out in surprise. 

Zachary stood in the doorway, costume boots in hand. “Where are you going, Highness?”

“Not your business.” As Zachary’s eyes narrowed, Rupert knew he messed up. 

“That’s not going to work. I know my duty to my kingdom. And if you’re sneaking out I’ll tell Sir Percy,” Zach threatened. 

Rupert glanced back at the window. “Yes, go ahead and do that.”

Zachary’s eyebrow popped up. “Why would you want...oh. So you can slip away. Clever. Well, I guess that means I can’t leave you.”

“Well, you can’t follow me out the window.” Rupert took a few steps, but Zachary grabbed him by the elbow. 

“You’re killing yourself?!” Zachary asked, panicked. 

Rupert whirled around. “What? No. I’m climbing out. Yeesh.” 

With relief, Zachary sighed and let go of Rupert’s arm. “You are not climbing out. You’ll fall and kill yourself. Besides, I’m not letting you anywhere near the window.”

Rupert made shooing motions with both hands. “Don’t you have chores to do for Sir Percy? If you stay here all night he’ll think you were goofing off.”

“Not if I tell him...” Zachary started. 

Rupert shook his head. “Not if I tell him you were.”

The pout returned. “Of course you’d lie.”

Rupert placed his hands on his hips and puffed his chest up. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nevermind.” Zachary walked past him to close the window. “What are you going out to do?”

“There’s a...person I have to help,” Rupert said. “He thinks someone is stealing from his family.”

“Outside the Castle? In the city? At night? You do know thieves, cut-purses and burglars are out roaming around?” Zachary pointed out. 

“Is that like a common phrase? Because really it’s like three words that mean the same thing,” Rupert asked, heading to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Zachary asked. 

Rupert snorted. “Out. Now either come with me and help or stay here and find someone who can stop me.”

“I could just turn you in to the first guard I see,” Zachary pointed out. 

Rupert laughed. “I’m quicker than you think. I can outrun the guards and slip away.”

Zachary cast his arms wide. “You really need to help this person tonight? The night before your birthday?”

“Yes,” Rupert said simply.

Zachary scoffed, but threw his hands up. “Fine, I’ll come with you.”

Rupert shook his head. "You really don't..."

Zachary cut him off. "We need to be back before you're noticed. I don't trust you to make it back in time. Let's go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back."

***

"Why wasn't there anyone at the gate?" Rupert asked as they slid through the shadows outside the castle. 

Zachary shrugged as they hugged the shadows. They were past the gate, but a wall guard could potentially spot them. "Old man's a drunkard. He's in the guardhouse passed out, probably. He waits for Sir Percy to go to bed. He'll be busted down to stables with his daughter at this rate."

"Isn't it your duty to report this stuff to Percy?" Rupert asked, both relieved and terrified by such a lapse in security. 

Zachary shook his head. "Percy knows. He has a soft spot. The man helped train him. Got him through his knight trials with some good advice."

"What advice?" Rupert asked.

Zachary stopped before an intersection, taking time to look all around. He crossed the street calmly, quite as if he was used to doing so all the time. Which, Rupert realized, might actually be the case. "Sir Percy hasn't told me yet. Here, take one of my knives just in case."

Rupert took the knife before thinking about it. "In case what?"

Zachary stopped and whirled on him. "In case whatever! You need to be able to defend yourself or has Sir Percy not made that clear yet?" 

At Rupert's non-plussed shrug, Zachary put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "Where are we headed, again?"

"The Dog and Dragon Inn," Rupert replied.

Zachary sighed and nodded. "Right. That's this way, then."

In the courtyard of the inn, they ran into Draco. Thankfully he was fully clothed. 

"Hey, Draco!" Rupert called. 

Draco waved. "Rooster, you brought a friend?"

"Rooster?" Zachary whispered as the older boy approached.

"Go with it," Rupert whispered back. When Draco was close enough Rupert offered introductions. "This is Zachary. He's a squire."

"What's he here for?" Draco asked, sizing Zachary up. 

"To protect the pr--" Rupert elbowed him in the side and shook his head. Thinking quickly, Zachary continued, "pr--property of one of the best inns in the city. Rooster here told me you might have a man with sticky fingers."

Draco looked doubtful, but shrugged his shoulders. "Well, let's get you two set up. There's a loft right above the bar that hasn't been used in ages. It's got a slit in the floor just by the till so you can keep an eye on the money. I expect you'll be dusty before the early morning. Father sleeps until about four in the morning, gets ready and then changes over with Timothy. Father walks Timothy home and leaves me to tend a bit until he gets back."

Rupert nodded. "Good to know. We'll see what we can see and do what we can do."

Several hours later, Rupert nudged Zachary awake. "He steal anything yet?"

Rupert shook his head. "He is doling out bigger portions and drinks to his friends, but that's encouraging them to spend more so it's doubtful Drak would mind."

"We came out here because a guy gives his friends a bigger serving?" Zachary threw his head back and sighed. 

"Well, maybe so. It's late enough now that folks are paying their tabs and heading home. Help me keep an eye on the money," Rupert ordered as he looked through the crack in the loft floor. 

Huffing again, Zachary watched alongside Rupert as the tabs were settled. It came to the last man, who looked to make sure the others were gone. This glancing around caught both boys' attention. From his coin purse the man retrieved a few old looking coins and slapped them on the bar. With a start, Rupert reached into his pocket and retrieved the Frederick coin the chamberlain gave him. 

Timothy closed the distance between himself and the coins quickly. "Steady on, you fool! If anyone saw you with these you'd be lucky to wind up in the forest!"

"S'nobody around. Youse just gonna melt it down and give it to your treashury fren anyway," the clearly inebriated fellow said. 

"Barrabas the Great. I swear you're a great actor but terrible with secrets. Shut your mouth," Timothy said darkly.

"Well, I don't have to take this aggravitation. You may be a great currency conspirator, but you're a right lousy bar-man. With what you make passing off phony laviniums you'd think you..." But here Barrabas was cut off by Timothy waving a metal cup at him threateningly. "Right! Fine! I know when I'm not appreciated!"

Beating a hasty retreat, Barrabas left Timothy to himself. The boys watched him slip the Fredericks into his personal coin pouch at his belt. The rest were locked into the till.

Scooting back from their viewpoint, Zachary waited to see what Rupert would suggest. The prince sat puzzling it out before a look came over his face that Zachary never saw before. "Why do you look like you have a plan?"

Rupert pulled out the dagger Zach gave him and smiled. "Because I have a plan."

In the early morning hours, Timothy and Drak greeted each other with all the familiarity of two older male family members. If Drak's son looked more alert than normal today, well, it was lost on both men. As they entered the courtyard of the inn, they stopped to admire the fresh cold air. Neither man noticed the small black shape until it was on Timothy, a reflective swish lashing out at the man's belt area.

"Cut-purse!" Drak cried, moving quicker than the thief anticipated. He had a handful of the thief's robe before the blade flashed again. Caught off balance, the thief sliced the inn-keeper's arm. The pain forced the man to let go and the thief paused for a second before running away and over the wall. Drak barely made out an arm reaching down to help in the escape. The thief had an accomplice!

Hastily, Timothy reached down to grab the coins.

"Oh, hell, Tim, leave the money for a bit and help me with my bloody arm!" Drak barked. Draco's head popped out of the inn door and his face flashed genuine horror.

"Boy!" Timothy barked. "Get a clean rag and quick! Some thief's cut my purse and his arm!" As Draco rushed back inside, Timothy went back to looking for his lost coins.

"Damn, Tim, I said leave it. The boy's no good with blood and I'll need a clean pair of hands to help..." For a moment, Drak looked down and caught sight of the coin at his boot. "What are you doing with a bloody Frederick!"

Timothy quickly snapped up the coin. "Just a collectible, boss. A memento of better times."

"Show me the lot!" Drak ordered.

"Steady on, old man, it's my money..." Drak knocked the coins out of Timothy's hands. They were unmistakable in their size and color. 

"You taking old money? For what? Lavinium's are worth more by weight and quality...oh Tim. Tell me who you're dealing these to." Draco reappeared and Drak snatched the rag and held it against his arm. The boy looked down at the old coins on the ground and shook his head. 

"Dad, have a look at these," Draco said, showing his father three lavinium coins. The differences were harder to tell in the dim light, but the old man held enough coins in his life to tell when something was off. He picked up the one he was sure about, the set that down and checked the others.

Timothy glanced at the exit gate. 

"You been passing fake coin through my own inn!" Drak exclaimed.

Timothy's hand went back to his belt and he darted towards his employer. Before Draco could shout, his father collapsed and the counterfeiter was across the courtyard. Tim never made it past the gate, a black shadow fell across his back. The night-man found himself in the dirt at the feet of Sir Percy and his knights.

***

As Zachary trudged back into the castle courtyard, Rupert stood there, waiting in his pajamas and changing robe. "How's Drak?"

Zachary cast his eyes down.

"Oh my god! I killed him?" Rupert sat in the dirt of the courtyard as tears flowed. "I-I didn't mean to..."

"You didn't. Timothy nearly did when he was found out, though. Luckily he missed anything important, but Drak will take some time to recover." Zachary winced as he sat next to the prince. They both sat in silence. Rupert was stunned, Zachary exhausted. 

"What did you tell Sir Percy?" Rupert asked, finally. "You rushed me here so quickly I didn't hear..."

"I told him I'd been running off to see the innkeeper's daughter. Saw a thief cut the old man and his night-man's purse. I lead the way back here as he rounded up his knights. I saw Tim stab Drak..." Zachary buried his face in his hands.

Rupert reached over to put an arm around Zachary's shoulders. The older boy balked at the touch, crying out in what sounded like pain. Snatching his hand back, he looked at the blood on his palm in horror. "Zachary, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Zach lied.

"Did Tim get you too? I'll get the doctor, he'll..." Rupert started to stand, but Zachary bowled him over.

"No! Just you shut your mouth, your highness! I hate you and so does Draco! Yeah, we'll keep this a bloody secret between us because he's ashamed he got someone to cut his father bad enough he couldn't defend himself. And I'll only get more of this!" At that, Zachary lifted up his shirt to show the bloody welts on his back. Laid under those welts were the scars of old ones, each almost uniform in size and shape. "So you save your skin and keep your mouth shut! Haven't you done enough?"

In numb horror, Rupert scooted away. He rose when Zachary turned away. The western prince fled up the stairs to his room. It was the worst birthday he'd ever had.


End file.
